"Is all well, in Elvendere?" Gawain asked again, threading a curved needle with horse-hair dipped in Jurian brandy.
"All is confusion."
"Then Meeya and Valin, and the Threllandmen, arrived safely?"
"They did. There was an…incident. One of the dwarves was injured. But he is recovered."
Elayeen choked back a sob as Gawain began working the needle. Allazar knelt behind her.
"By your leave, Longsword?" The wizard asked.
"Aye." Gawain replied, and Allazar rested his hands gently on each side of Elayeen's head, and began a gentle muttering, stilling her pain as best he could while Gawain concentrated through strange aquamire and stitched the wound.
"Will Thal-Hak come to Ferdan?" Gawain asked.
"If he does not, I shall. By now, word will already have reached him of my trespass onto Jurian soil, and of the battle. Even the wizards in Elvenheth cannot now refute the enemy that Meeya and Valin speak of."
"You spoke of confusion?"
"All is confusion. We are told that all Threllanders hate us, yet Threllanders are in Elvendere, and are frith, and gentle people. We are told mishith is faranthroth, yet Meeya and Valin say she lives, and is Thalin-Raheen, and thrives in Threlland. We are told you are Morloch-cursed and must be destroyed, yet we learn you are Raheen, and now I see you are truly throth, and hoth, to mishith Elayeen. And we are told the enemy lays waiting to the northwest of our land, preparing for war."
"How could they have evaded our Rangers, mithroth?" Elayeen gasped as Gawain tied the final knot, and cut the thread.
"They did not. The enemy we met today came from the Gorian wasteland, not the Barak-nor. They were the closer force. How long they have lain in wait on the plains I do not know. Most likely ever since Joyen sent word of our plans when he first learned them from Eryk."
Gawain gently wiped the stitched wound with a cloth soaked in brandy, and set about winding a fresh bandage around her leg. When he'd done, Allazar ceased his mumbling, and withdrew his hands.
"Mibreth," Elayeen sighed, "Our father must come to Ferdan. Juria and Callodon will soon arrive."
Gan nodded. "I shall try. But…all is confusion. I cannot stay any longer," Gan turned around to gaze down at his sister, "Our people are ready to return our fallen home."
Elayeen nodded, her eyes brimming, and Gawain helped her to her feet. She took a hesitant step forward, but Gan took a pace backward. Pain and confusion filled Elayeen's eyes.
"I cannot embrace you, Elayeen. Mishith is yet faranthroth, and it is unseemly for me to embrace the queen of Raheen."
"Gan…" Elayeen pleaded, and the expressions of both elf and elfin were of such anguish that the strange aquamire drained away from Gawain's eyes.
"We will travel with you, Gan-thal am Elvendere, at least as far as we may."
Gan nodded, and bowed, and then turned to walk back to his people. It took a little time to transfer Elayeen's saddle and her packs to one of the Morlochmen's horses, and Gawain held Elayeen tightly to him while it was being done.
"It took much for your brother to trespass thus, and his thalangard." Gawain said softly. "Do not be so downhearted, mithroth. In truth, with the eyes of the thalangard and the Jurian patrol upon him, he had no choice but to refuse your embrace."
She sniffed, and wiped her eyes. "I know. Yet it breaks my heart. To see elves fallen thus, and know that it was for me they died."
Gawain hugged her, as Allazar brought the horse forward. "I know. But many more may fall before Morloch is truly defeated. We must be strong, for their sake, and remember them always."
He helped her into the saddle, and then mounted Gwyn, and they waited quietly while the mournful procession of thalangard, led of course by Gan, began their slow and sorrowful procession back towards the distant trees.
Gawain, Elayeen and Allazar followed at a respectful distance, and the Jurian cavalry, still maintaining their warrior's salute, moved to flank the procession. Thus they left the battlefield behind them, in silence, the first victory of the coming conflict won, the price paid clear before them.
A hundred paces from the tree line, the Jurian escort, yet in funereal salute, halted, as did the rearguard. The elves continued on without hesitation, and bushes rustled as elves appeared in the trees to welcome the mournful party home. Gan drew his horse to one side, and bowed as the fallen were borne past him into Elvendere. Then, when all were safe beyond the trees, he turned, and under the watchful eye of dozens of elves, he rode slowly back and drew his horse alongside Elayeen's.
Without a word he handed her his longbow, and his quiver, and then he rode back to the tree line. He gave a brief command, and the watching elves stepped forward into clear view as Gan turned his horse, placed his hand on his heart, and returned the salute to the Jurian cavalry patrol. Then, moments later, they were gone, leaving just the breezes sighing in the boughs as if in gentle eulogy.
"Your Majesty," Byrne announced as his men sheathed their weapons. "It will be our honour to escort you to Ferdan."
"And ours to be escorted thus." Gawain replied. "Honour to you, Captain, and to your men. You have done a noble service this day, it shall not be forgotten."
"Thank you, your Majesty." Byrne replied softly, and with a last lingering glance at the trees, they moved off, heading south.
In truth, it was a quiet journey, spent mostly in reflection. When they rested to eat, Gawain tended to Elayeen's wound, taking great care to keep it clean and the bandages fresh. She bore the discomfort well, and all around admired her for it. The deep gash was awkwardly placed where riding was concerned, yet she did not protest nor slow their steady progress.
The battering Gawain had received stiffened his muscles, and his shoulder in particular protested much until Allazar persuaded him to allow him near it.
"I don't want some whitebeard mumbling in my ear." Gawain muttered darkly.
"Yet you permitted me to mumble in your Lady's." Allazar pointed out.
"That was different."
"How so, mithroth?"
Gawain mumbled something about chickens, which drew strange looks from the Jurians in the camp.
"Chickens?" Allazar protested, "I do not understand. What has this to do with the bruising to your shoulder?"
"Never mind. It is a long story."
"Mithroth, I am hurt that you would allow Allazar to aid me, yet you trust him not to aid you." Elayeen said with mock severity. "Do you value me so low?"
"No!" Gawain protested, "You were sorely wounded and I would not see you in such pain! This bruising is a trifle."
"Which impairs your judgement as well as your aim with arrow and blade." Elayeen chided. "On which we may yet depend."
"Then do what you think you must, wizard. But I warn you, if I hear the word 'chicken' I shall cut off your arm and beat you to death with your own hand."
"Thank you, Longsword." Allazar grumbled, and rested his fingertips on Gawain's shoulder.
There were no recognisable words in the wizard's chanting, and certainly not the word which seemed to so worry Gawain. But next morning when he awoke, the pain in his shoulder had eased considerably, and by lunchtime had faded almost to a memory.
A day from Ferdan, Captain Byrne drew his horse alongside Gawain's.
"Your Majesty?" the officer began.
"Aye, Captain?"
"We have but a small force at Ferdan. The Foresters, such as they are, and but four troops of cavalry. Our commander expects more when their Majesties arrive with their honour-guards, of course. But…"
"You are concerned that the enemy might attack the town, if it hasn't already."
"Aye."
"You are right to be concerned," Gawain said, his voice hard. "I too am worried. If Eryk of Threlland approaches, as by now he surely must, his guard may not be enough to meet an enemy of the strength we encountered. Likewise Arrun and Mornland, should they elect to attend."